Tuesday, January 11, 2011

21 DAYS IN THE GHETTO

Ciao fuckers!

So Danny Boyle the great filmmaker that brought us gross out movies like Trainspotting and Slumdog Millionaire has another crap your pants flick called 127 hours starring James Franco. Basically a hiker finds himself in a fucked up scenario and has to lop of his arm in order to survive.  He's stuck in a terrible predicment with not a lot of resources, but has to find a way to survive. Ha. Sort of like living in the ghetto's of Chicago.  Here's my film:

Massa Piece Theatre & Oscar Micheaux Films Present
21 Days In The Ghetto  starring Academy Award Watcher J. Nicole Brooks
A brilliant actress. Colin Firth said "She's really fucking good at crying."
A harrowing tale of an ex-patriot ghetto bird, who became quite successful at assimilating into a "high society". She left behind artery clogging fast food, Swisher blunt rolling papers, and Moscato.  She learned to order quinoa, and not grits.  She learned to sip Napa Valley wines, though she missed wine coolers. She knew that panini's wasn't nothing but fried salami with cheese smushed down by the gatdamn spatula--she also wasn't fooled by foie gras--that expensive fucking Oscar Meyer liverwurst smackled on a piece of cute bread...but she ordered it, to fit in.  Through hard work, appetite suppressant pills, and the banishment of her black Chicago accent, she became a rising star. The curious negro woman donned Helmut Lang and the best Remy hair money could buy.  She was a hit in the the world of liberals, yuppies/buppies, and guilt ridden White people. But she could not forget her past. So she decides to take a trip back home, to walk amongst her people. The Ghetto birds.  She temporarily trades in her organic free trade won't leave a carbon foot print-moss & sponge made tampons, carefully woven by abused women in Djibouti-- for whatever plug stoppers they sold at the liquor store. The liquor store where residents of Washington Park are forced to shop for food, personal care items, and lottery tickets. A touching story of a buppie phoenix bird, and her crash landing back into the tenements from whence she came. 

Guys I'm going fucking nuts here in Chicago. I miss my gym and 72 degree weather.  The only cardio I can get in Chicago, is doing the Dougie in the snow along side the hypes and vagrants outside the liquor store.  I miss recycling. I've been here for a 3 weeks and feel like I alone am responsible for the mass bird kills...because no one cares about recycling here for the most part.  I'm sorry to say this, but these girls here need to quit bending their elbows...these women--the black women in Chicago are humongous.  STOP EATING CRAP. I'm not being some Hollyweird skinny creep, but diabetes will stop your big ass from going to Bakers for a new pair of shoes, okay sweetie? Go to Bally's not Baba's Steak and Lemonade.  And white people, don't think you're off the hook. I'm really fucking mad at ya'll.  There are acres of land in this neighborhood! When are you going to get your latte sipping asses down here, build single family homes, re-colonize with gays and push the residents out?!  Gentrify us, I'm begging you. No--I dare you.

I'm leaving soon to return back to Hells Anus, California but this trip has been a trip. I know some of my readers have heard this rant before, but it's only because the shit is never in motion. There feels like there isn't growth, but apathy and depression. I love Chicago, and I love the neighborhood that I grew up in.  I will always be a resident of Chicago, no matter how much I complain.  But on a bright note, this morning I was awakened by the sounds of a bull dozer.  There was an abandoned building on my block where my family lives, and this place was a vortex for drug trafficking and squattersville.  I called the police daily about this place. Then I started harassing my alderman. No one likes an angry constituent, especially one who's internet savvy. I was prepared to Yelp the shit out of Alderman Dowell if she didn't respond to my calls. (See Yelp is a genius invention by white people, that will put anyone on full blast for sub par service.  Trust me, it works) Well, the squeaky wheel gets the oil, because that house of doom is no longer! Praise white Jesus!

Quality of life is real people. It isn't reserved for an elite few.  In this neighborhood, we pay taxes in 60621. Matter of fact, we are Hyde Park Township...so we're no different from the mothafuckers that live next door to Obama.  I don't want my mother, friends or loved ones to continue living in a state of fear.  Besides, stress gives you the worst skin.  And no want listens to people with bad skin.  You can fight for social justice and still be pretty possums.

I am leaving soon, But I shant be long! Because I am entering the Mayoral race. That's right good people, Dr. Slick for Mayor of Chicagoland.  You heard it hear first. Now raise your flasks to the drunken hosebag that promises to remove all parking meter pay boxes! We will use the revenue from marijuana and prostitution sales...which will be legal under my rule.

Huzzah mothafuckas!

x

NEXT BLOG: "Children should be neither seen nor heard". The Chinese way of raising children.

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